The Only Letter I Ever Had for My Friend

The two women stood for a minute, staring at each other in the last golden light. Then Mrs. Anzley dropped back into her chair and covered her face with her hands. The flame of her wrath had already sunk. She wondered why she had ever thought there would be any satisfaction in inflicting so purposeless a wound on her friend. But she had to justify herself. You do understand I'd found out. And I hated you. Hated you. So in a blind fury, I wrote that letter.